Curious
by Sharkie2008
Summary: He frequently wonders what her life is like. What she was doing at the exact moment she found out he was dead.


**A/N: This has been floating around in my brain for the past couple of days. I think it's one of my better one's. Let me know what you all think. :)**

* * *

To say that he was excited when he learned he was going to New York was an understatement. He was told on Monday that he would be flying to Manhattan for a conference for the American Physical Therapy Association, which he was the Vice President of. He was ecstatic, overwhelmed, nervous, and stressed all at the same time. Ever since he left the city, he was constantly thinking of it. Central Park, Times Square, Ground Zero, the overpowering smell that seemed to overtake the city in the summer, even the rudeness of the people, and the politeness of the tourists. He missed everything. He missed _her_.

Rochester was a nice enough city. He should feel some sense of accomplishment to be working at the Mayo Clinic, the most famous hospital with the most experienced of surgeons. He'd seen everyone from celebrities to the president pass through those halls. But he was handed all of this. He was taken away from his real life, his real family, his real world, and was placed in Rochester, Minnesota. Population: 100,845 thousand. It was ranked number 67 on _Money _Magazines "Best Places to Live" index in 2006. The Mayo Clinic employed an estimated 30,000 of those residents, and IBM another 3 to 4,000. It was a good city. A good place to raise a family.

But that was because of everything being taken away from him. He was at the top of his game. He had just married a _wonderful_ woman, whom he truly loved more than anything. He had reached a good point at his job, very happy with where he was. He was going to ask his wife about children three days before it happened. Three days before his life was lost forever, before his very eyes.

He was doing an undercover operation, one which she knew about, but not fully. She wasn't aware of the details, the dangerousness of the situation and he told himself this was for the best. She didn't need to worry. She had her own safety to worry about. After all, she was a detective herself.

He felt the bullet hit his chest at a force that felt as if a truck was ripping right though his chest. His breath caught in his throat, and instantly he was gasping. He reached out, trying to grasp anything he could to prevent himself from falling but he was on the ground before he could find anything. He had bruised his spine pretty badly due to the fall, but the pain from the bullet was so intense he didn't even remember it. For the two minutes that he was lying there conscious, he prayed to God to just take him. Dying sounded so much better at that moment rather then enduring the burning sensation throughout his body.

Two days later he was transferred to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, and was told about his new life. His name was Will Silke, he was 39 years old and had lived in White Bear Lake, a suburb of the twin cities for his entire life before being hired by the Mayo Clinic as a Physical Therapist. He went to school for a few months to learn what he needed for his job and he couldn't help by chuckle at the amount of time it took for him to earn a degree it takes others years to achieve.

For the last eight years he's gone about finding ways to avoid returning to Manhattan, by orders of the Marshals, but he could see no way around this one. He was the Vice President of the Association and has skipped out on the conference for the last six years. They threatened to kick him off the board when they heard that he wasn't able to make it, yet again, this year. So, he had no choice. He was going to New York.

* * *

It was everything he remembered it to be. Summer was in full swing and the leaves and flowers were in full bloom. New York really was beautiful. He missed it more than he originally thought.

After getting a cab to the hotel where the conference was being held, as well as where he was staying, he stood in front of his window in his room reminiscing on his life in New York before it was taken away. She was somewhere in this city, most likely working, and the thought killed him. He was a mere miles away from her, and the urge to find her was eating away at him.

No. _No._ He can't. He would have to start all over. _Again_.

Trying to free his mind from thoughts of her, he changed his clothes and walked down to a restaurant he visited frequently when he lived here. One he visited frequently with _her. _So much for freeing his thoughts of her.

He got in right away and sat down at a booth near the back of the room where he could survey everyone enjoying their meals. Watching people had always been one of his favorite things to do. They way they interact with each other, it differs between couples. It's quite fascinating. For instance, a couple just starting their relationship are more hesitant towards each other. They are in the politeness stage, making sure they do everything right so as not to scare the person away before things have a chance to get serious. He watched as a couple just like that entered the restaurant, smiling at each other and awkwardly sitting down at their table across from each other. He laughed as he watched them strain for some type of conversation.

There were two women sitting in the middle of the room at a table, and he watched them as they threw their heads back and began laughing. He could instantly tell that these two, although not a couple, could be considered as such. They were definitely best friends, and had probably known each other for quite a few years. They leaned in towards each other when they talked, showing they were comfortable being in each others presence. They were two girlfriends trying to catch up with each other in between the demands of their lives.

His favorite type of couple, the one he found himself staring at now, was his absolute favorite. He had been apart of a relationship like that once before, and he longed for it. He longed for the complete ease the person puts you at. They way they make you feel as if you are the most important person in the world, the only one they want to be around. That when you're in their presence, they make you feel better about yourself. Like you could accomplish just about anything. The two had their hands interlaced across the table and the man had a soft look to his face. He could only see the back of the woman, who was leaning towards the table, closer to him. She had blond hair that just reached her shoulders. A silk dark blue dress on that reached the floor. The back scooped down low, exposing her broad shoulders and toned back. She looked beautiful. She looked like _her._

He dismissed the thought from his mind before it had time to linger. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her. The city was full of thousands of people, the odds of him running into her were pretty low. Instead, he focused on the man. His face was soft, and had a smile of sorts tugging at his lips. But from his neck down, he looked tense. His shoulders weren't relaxed, but being held up as if he were holding the weight of the world there. He skipped down the rest of the mans body to his foot which was tapping on the floor. He had a problem relaxing. He clearly felt comfortable with the woman, who seemed to show no irritation to his behavior. Instead, she suddenly stood up a little and leaned across the table to kiss him lightly.

Will sat there for ten more minutes watching the couple interact before he stood up to leave. He couldn't stand the closeness these two shared with each other. Everything they did reminded him of her. He made it up to the cash register when he saw them stand up to leave as well. He cursed under his breath, because the last thing he wanted was to be_ near_ the happy couple. The happy, chipper, nothing is wrong in our lives because we love each other couple.

He hurried in getting out his credit card and handing it to the waitress, but frowned when she took her merry old time in swiping it. To his luck, his card had decided to wear out at that exact moment and the waitress was forced to manually type the numbers into the computer.

They turned towards the door after they reached for each others hand again. In that moment, he swears the whole world stood still. She turned towards him, and his heart began beating rapidly. Everything around him froze, including the waitress typing in his card number. He watched her smile up at her lover, before she focused on maneuvering around the tables in front of her. It was _her_. The very person he had been hoping to avoid because he was forced too but, who he secretly wished he would run into. His wife. She was in front of him, holding hands with another man, smiling at another man the way she used to smile at him, loving another man who was not him.

Before she noticed his gaze on her, he turned away quickly. The waitress was just finishing up with his credit card and he prayed he would be gone before they got up to the line. She smiled at him handing him back his card and receipt. She apologized profusely for the inconvenience and he nodded saying it was no big deal at all. He turned around quickly and started walking before he was stopped by a large body in his path. He swore when he hit him and mumbled his apologizes before he realized just who had bumped into. He recognized his shoes because of his damn tapping. He looked up at the man who let get of her hand for a second so he could reach out to his shoulder.

"Are you alright? I'm terribly sorry I was standing so close to you."

Of course he'd be sincere. "No it was my fault. I'm awfully sorry. I should watch where I am walking."

The man waved him off with his hand. "No harm no foul. Don't worry about it."

Will nodded his head in agreement.

"Mr. and Mrs. Goren. How was your meal?" The waitress behind Will asked.

The man, who Will assumed was Mr. Goren, turned his attention to the waitress and smiled.

"It was wonderful as usual Cassandra, thank you." He looked back at Will for just a second and said "Excuse me," and made his way around him to the waitress.

That left him and her. He avoided her for as long as he could before he felt he was being rude. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, he turned towards her. She was watching the man, who he now knew as her husband. She looked just as beautiful as she did when he left. She had a few wrinkles around her eyes, which he would bet his pay check on was because of the job. But that, in his opinion, added to the realness of her face. He let himself soak up everything about her and took as many mental pictures as he possibly could. He wanted to memorize every wrinkle, every hair strand, and every laugh line he could. He wanted this picture in his mind forever. When he realized he probably appeared to be staring, he tore his gaze away from her.

"Ready to go, honey?" Mr. Goren asked his wife when he appeared back at her side. She nodded smiling at him, and took his arm that he offered her. They turned to leave, standing straight in front of Will.

The look on her face was of surprise when she finally looked at him. She looked confused for a moment, before she looked down towards the floor. She was clearly in thought, and Will almost pulled her into his arms when he watched a strand of her hair fall in her face. He wanted to push it away, just like he had done thousands of times before.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" She asked politely, looking back up at him. She was scrutinizing his face, looking for a sign of something familiar.

He had to hand it to the Marshals. They did a very good job in changing his appearance, but the fact this his wife didn't even recognize him either meant they did an even better job than he first thought, or she really didn't remember what he looked like. She probably remembers him based on the photos she used to have laying around the house, which he was sure probably weren't there anymore. The ones that were taken ten to fifteen years ago. The mental picture she used to have of him in her mind faded to just bits and pieces of him. Then when Mr. Goren came along, he had erased them permanently and replaced them with his own.

"No. No, I don't think so." Will managed to force out.

She looked skeptical for a few seconds before her face softened and she smiled. The curiousness wiped away from her face.

"I'm sorry, you just looked like someone I once knew."

Will nodded. "It's okay. Happens all the time."

She nodded as well and turned away with her husband to leave the restaurant.

"Sorry to bother you. Have a good night." She gave a small wave and then was out the door walking down the street away from him, towards her apartment. Their apartment.

Will stood there for a second longer, almost wanting to let tears fall away from his eyes. But he didn't feel them making their presence known in the back of his eyes. There were none there. Instead, he felt a smile start tugging at his lips. She was happy. Granted, it wasn't with him, but she was genuinely happy. He really couldn't ask for anything else.

This trip did turn out to be a good thing. He felt as though he was able to finally move on with his life. Just like she had. He loved her, he always would, but he knew his chance with her was gone. He had no choice but to get back on the plane tomorrow and return to Rochester. Coming here gave him some sort of closure, and though he will always love her, he doesn't feel like he needs to be with her. He was always worried she would be alone. He had nothing to worry about now, she was happy and had moved on. When he returned to his hotel, his thoughts for once drifted off to the conference tomorrow instead of to her. He planned his speech, and was in bed watching TV when he realized that he just needed to know she was okay. She had made it though his death, which had probably turned her into a much stronger person than before.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was her he truly missed, or what he once had with her. He was comfortable with her, comfortable with what they shared. Did he..._settle_ for her? No. No way. He loved her. But it wasn't the same anymore. He didn't want to hold her in his arms, he didn't to kiss her everywhere he possibly could, his mind wasn't constantly thinking of ways he could "accidentally" run into her. She was happy. She was truly happy.

He slept soundly that night, comfortable with the idea that Mrs. Dutton, or rather Mrs. Goren was safe and sound in the arms of a man she truly loved. Possibly more than she ever loved him. And surprisingly, he was okay with that.


End file.
